Dear Daddy 2: Sailing Home
by AngelFood
Summary: Follow up to Dear Daddy...Scully finds a new release


DISCLAIMER: Dana Scully, William Scully, Melissa Scully and Fox Mulder are not mine. They belong to 1013, and those guys. The monologue from "One Breath" was written by either James Wong, Glen Morgan, or a combination of the two.

Author's note: For my dad, just because no matter what choices I make with my life (like marrying a guy 12 years my senior in Las Vegas), he respects that it's my life and my choice, and loves me anyway!! And, for Mare, who doesn't ream me up one way and down the other for writing other stuff when we have so far to go on our little project. And, to anyone else I may have forgotten. You know who you are, even if I don't! Send all feedback to [Jen][1]! Thanks!

Dear Daddy II: Sailing Home 

Jennifer J. Mauricio

January, 1995

Annapolis, MD

3:27 a.m.

_"Hello Starbuck. It's Ahab._

_ "People would say to me, 'Life is short.' 'Kids, they grow up fast.' 'Before you know it, it's over.'_

_ "I never listened. For me, life went at a proper pace. There were many rewards._

_ "Until the moment I knew, I understood, I would never see you again. My little girl. Then, my life felt as if it had been the length of one breath, one heartbeat._

_ "I never knew how much I loved my daughter until I no longer could tell her. At that moment, I would have traded every medal, every commendation, every promotion for one more second with you._

_ "We'll be together again soon, Starbuck, but not now. Soon."_

Her father's voice. She knew that is what had sent her back to her life. Back to her family, back to Mulder. That isn't the way it happened in all the accounts she had read. Weren't you loved ones supposed to welcome you to the Great Beyond with open arms?

Dana Scully had, until now, doubted the existence of Heaven. And she still wasn't sure that her father's appearance was anything more than a drug-induced hallucination. But in her heart, she knew he had been standing there, tall and proud in his gleaming white uniform. And he had told her to stay.

Why couldn't he have told her where she had been, or what had been done to her?

She got up from the couch and turned the lights off on her Christmas tree, the glow fading softly to black. But nothing matched the darkness in her heart. The darkness of being all alone, even though you are surrounded by friends and family. The darkness of not having been in control of your environment and circumstances for so long. The darkness, the coldness of having looked death in the eye, taken it by the hand, but then hesitating, turning back into uncertainty.

Part of her longed to go to her mom's, and just cry for hours in her old house. But she didn't want to scare her mother. Maggie Scully had dealt with so much in the last couple of years. It wouldn't be fair to burden her now. She could call Mulder, but what would she say to him? Admitting her fear was out of the question. There was Melissa. Dana sighed. She wasn't in the mood for her sister's whacked-out New Age theories.

Back in the stress-filled medical school days, writing had proved to be extremely cathartic for her. She knew she had a blank journal or notebook around somewhere. Going to her desk, she rummaged around in the middle drawer, trying to remember what she had done with her empty notebooks. Nothing in the desk but files and some stationary. An idea formed in her head. Everyone she could think of to talk to would try and give her advice or encouragement to be strong. She didn't want any of that, and it would only make her resentful. She just needed someone to listen.

"Ahab," she whispered, gathering a few sheets of stationary and a pen. She sat down and began to write.

Dear Daddy:

How I have missed you this past year. Christmas just isn't the same without your gruff declaration that the tree has to come down December 26th. Mom didn't even put a tree up this year. Said she couldn't bear the memories this soon. We all miss you so much, Daddy.

Oh, how I wish I could talk to you, face to face, just one time. To ask you why you sent me back here from wherever I was, why you didn't just let me stay with you. I suppose it's just one of those mysteries of life you were always telling me about.

I am scared, Ahab, so scared. I would have never been able to say this to you when you were alive, and it's not anything I will ever admit out loud. Not to Mom, not to Missy, and especially not to Mulder. I am frightened of my future. Do I even have a future? I feel that this disappearance of mine has many layers to it that we have yet to uncover. That there are things that have yet to come to light. And I am terrified of what they may be. 

I can't help but think that if I had just succumbed, it would be a moot point. That I would be dead, and that knowing wouldn't matter. Who sent you to me, Daddy? Who sent you to talk my soul into sailing home. I don't remember what you said to me. But I remember the warmth of your voice filling my heart and mind. Whatever you said, it worked. I am back. I realized that no matter what you said, the message was clear. I had to return to help Mulder discover where I had been, and what had happened to me. Maybe there are things that were done to me that we don't know about yet. But that just means that I am the biggest clue as to what happened. And any good FBI agent knows that destroying evidence is an obstruction of justice.

Well, I need justice. I need answers. I want to be free of this uncertainty. And I want Mom and Mulder to have their answers, too. I can't help but wonder if you have the answers.

Ironically, I believe my fear of an future filled with unknown repercussions of my disappearance is partially responsible for driving me back here to see that future through to its end.. At least I am here and I can find the answers with my own resources. If I had died then, what would have happened? Would we really be together again? I like to think that's the case, but how, and where? You see, that's what I mean about fear driving me back. I may not know what the future holds, but I know there is a future. I don't know what will happen when I die, but hopefully when that time comes, the uncertainty won't scare the Hell out of me like it does now.

For now, there is only one thing I am able to count on. I always have been, probably always will be. My love for you keeps you alive in my heart. I know we weren't the most emotionally demonstrative family, and I do regret not telling you more often that you were the most patient, understanding, wonderful father in the world. Deep down, I never doubted that you were proud of me, rather, I doubted my ability to make you proud.

I miss you, Ahab. My recliner is always open for you, if you ever want to visit again. I'll be seeing you.

Love,

Dana

Scully pushed herself back from the desk and went into the kitchen, picking up the matches on her way.

The drive to the coast was difficult, even though a year had past since the funeral. She hadn't been back since, and yet, she knew she could have found it with her eyes shut. She eased her car into a parking space, headlights dancing off the waves. On the horizon, the sky was lightening to purple, signaling dawn's approach. Bracing herself for the cold wind, she stepped out of the car. 

In the distance, a ship's horn sounded, mournful and deep. She edged as close to the water's edge as she dared and pulled a small plastic bag from her pocket. The bag was filled with ashes that had once been the letter she wrote to her father.

She upended the bag, and let the wind pull the ashes out to sea. "Let me know when this gets to you, Ahab." After saying a little prayer, she turned around and headed back to the car. 

When she started the engine, the radio came on, "Beyond The Sea" drifting from the speakers. She was certain that her stereo hadn't even been turned on. Coincidence? No such thing. A supernatural Return Receipt Requested? Perhaps. 

You could never underestimate a father's influence on his favorite daughter's world. Extreme possibilities seem extremely possible (although she would never admit that in front of Mulder). And miracles were memories of baseball games and Sunday matinees, just the two of you.

With a smile on her lips, she turned the car towards home.

--The End--

   [1]: mailto:BeyondDSea@aol.com



End file.
